The Gnoll
by Archaggelos
Summary: After being killed by a group of hack and slash adventurers, a Gnoll has a conversation with God.
1. The Gnoll

The Gnoll

"Hello" said the Gnoll.

"Hello." God politely responded. There was a moment of silence. "So, how was your life?" God asked.

The Gnoll shrugged. "Well, I was born-" it paused. "I don't remember when I was born." The Gnoll shrugged again. "Anyway, I-" The Gnoll paused again. "Now that it comes to it, I don't remember much of anything except what happened a few hours before I died."

God gave a knowing smile. "That is because you were truely created only when the adventuring party entered the Grassy Gnollhide."

"Ohh...." said The Gnoll. There was another moment of silence. "Did you make me...to die?" asked the Gnoll hesitantly.

"Yes, I'm afraid I did." God responded.

"You also made me evil?" God nodded. "if you made me evil that means I never made the choice to be evil, which means that you made me attack-" the Gnoll began.

"Mikathror Dragontamer, Interalot the Uber-Mage, Cractaror the Hungry and their seven henchmen." God interjected.

The Gnoll continued. "Which also means that I have no free will, which means that I am just an extension of your will, which means that..." The Gnoll stopped in midsentence. Several moments later it continued. "That right now, you are asking yourself questions." God nodded in agreement. "Wow" The Gnoll said. "Why?" it asked.

"Because" God said "I do not have the ability to give you free will. That is something only the Dungeon Master of my universe can do, or so it would seem. Perhaps I have only as much free will as you." The Gnoll understood, then vanished, never to return, because his use and purpose in this story particle came to an end.


	2. Alignment

Alignment

"Help me!" the old man screamed. The man beating him gave a laugh that came out like a snort. The other man grunted back and continued to beat the old man, now quite pitifully curled up in a fetal position. "Help me!!" the old man screamed in desperation. The three adventurers stood, watching.

"Let's help him!" Said the Paladin heroically, puffing out his chest and drawing his sword with flourish. The paladin rushed forward.

"Hold on." the Ranger said quickly, stopping the Paladin in his tracks.

"What?" said the Paladin, clearly confused.

"Why are we helping the old man? How do we know he's a friend?" responded the Ranger.

"Well of course he's a friend! And after we save him, he'll give us instructions on how to continue with our quest!" The Paladin said enthusiastically.

"Oh please" the Ranger said. "We can't just assume that! We have to have good, in-character reasons for helping that man."

The Mage looked puzzled. "But the poor helpless victim always helps us after we save them! And often the victim turns out to be a powerful mage, or someone rich or generally someone who can help us." he exclaimed.

"Does that man look like a powerful mage to you?" asked the Ranger, pointing to the victimized old man.

"Hmm...." said the Mage. "He doesn't look rich either....we have a better chance if we help the thugs."

The Paladin crinkled his nose in confusion. "But we should help the old man because it's the right thing to do!" the Paladin finally reasoned.

"To you maybe." responded the Ranger. "But remember, my alignment is neutral."

The Paladin scratched his head pensively.

"Yeah, and my alignment is chaotic good" said the Mage.

"But that would mean you're still good right?" The Paladin responded.

"I guess....what's chaotic good anyway?" asked the Mage. "I suppose the real question is, what's good?" The Ranger responded.

"I think this is all unnecessary" interrupted the Mage. "It's obvious that helping someone will make him help us. Let's help for that reason, who cares about in-character reasons?" There was a moment of silence, penetrated only by the protests of the old man being beaten in the background.

"Well, being lawful good I'm supposed to oppose evil, tell the truth, uphold the law, help the needy and speak out against injustice." The Paladin said heroically. He drew his sword with flourish. "And beating old men is against the law, and that old man is in need!"

the Paladin started to run towards the old man, when the Ranger spoke again, "We've been wandering for weeks, what country are we in? What's the law around here anyway? Furthermore, who's really in need? Maybe those thugs are beating that old man for a reason. Who's to say the old man's needs are more important?"

The Paladin stopped, again, in his tracks. "Good point" He said, sitting down again.

"Help me!" the old man repeated.

"Of course!" the Mage exclaimed. He shuffled around his bag and pulled out a copy of the Player's Handbook. "This should settle it. Ok, lawful good Paladin, you should help those in need and stuff. Neutral Ranger, you do your own thing, and I, chaotic good, adhere to my own moral code!"

The Mage smiled. "I guess that settles it."

"Finally!" the Ranger exclaimed. The Paladin smiled in agreement and started towards the brutalized old man.

With the roll of a few dice, the Old man was dead and the party of three adventurers gained two new NPC's.


	3. The Tavern

The tavern was a quiet, dimly lit place. Patrons were scattered around the several round wood tables making quiet conversation. A mandolin player strummed a quiet background tune while the bartender washed glasses.

Two adventurers sat at a table in the corner. "Haven't we been here before?" the fighter asked.

The mage shrugged. "Anyway, back to the conspiracy…"

"A conspiracy?" Asked the fighter.

"Yes. I believe that we are involved in a vast conspiracy that spans the entire country, if not the world!" stated the Mage.

The fighter frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"I can't explain it." The mage took a drink of his mead.

"Oh do try."

"Well…well alright. You know in a story? Yeah? Well in a story, things just kind of work out right? Well, things keep happening, odds things-" he was abruptly interrupted.

A man in ragged clothes burst into the tavern, flailing his arms and out of breath. "Help! Help! Our village is in need! Orcs are attacking!" he cried. He glanced around to see if anyone would react. He ran over to the mage and fighter. "You will help us poor helpless villagers right?" he asked, staring into their faces.

The fighter had an impulse to say, "Yes we will!" but the mage acted first. He leaned forward. "No." The villager looked confused at first, and then sprinted out of the tavern.

"Why the hell did you do that?" The fighter asked.

"Don't you see? That's what they want you to do!"

"Who's they?"

"I don't know, whoever's in charge of the conspiracy."

"Back to that again? Why don't you explain?"

"Alright, that man for example. I've encountered dozens just like him! And get this; its always a band of Orcs."

"So what? The Orcs are uppity for this season of the year…"  
"No, no, no! It's not just the Orcs. It's every damn animal we've got. How is a viable eco system possible if just about every animal is a flesh eater?"

The fighter shrugged. "I dunno, but what's that got to do with the conspiracy?"

"Arrgg" the mage said in exasperation. "It's like the world's made for us ya know? Like, we're trapped in some kind of dream world in which all we're supposed to do is kill monsters."

"I can kill anything I damn well please thank you."

"But wait, that's the odd thing about it; you can't!"

"What? Are you insulting me?"

"Not at all!" The mage exclaimed. "The other day, I was haggling with this storekeeper see? And I say, 'give me this potion for 5 copper' and he looks into my face and says to me '5 copper my arse!' and I was having a really bad day, I mean really bad, and this was the last straw, so I just decide to power word kill him, and uh, and I actually did."

"Good job!"

"But, I didn't kill him. All of a sudden I'm standing in front of the store again as if I had gone back in time or something."

"Why, that's impossible!

"Yeah, isn't it? But it happened, it's like some giant divine presence is trying to stop us from doing things we shouldn't."

"Well, I can't believe that."

"No, no really. Go kill that bartender."

"Huh?"

"Go ahead; take a swing at him with that sword of yours."

"It's hardly proper-"

"Then I'll do it!" The mage got up and walked firmly to the counter. "I don't know who you are, you conspiracy master, you divine presence, but I defy you!" he murmured as he approached the bartender.

"What do you want?" The bartender asked. His eyes suddenly grew in fear as the mage began murmuring deadly magic words….

Then, an indiscernible shift. Two adventurers sat at a table in the corner. "Haven't we been here before?" the fighter asked.

The mage shrugged. "Anyway, back to the conspiracy…"


	4. Recruitment

Recruitment

I walked into a tavern.

Bad choice, I know; hang outs for brigands, thieves, adventurers. But what can I say? I ran a farm, milked cows, chased wolves from livestock, threshed…wheat.

It was a musty place; pipe smoke as thick as morning fog. Dim, oily lamps and a mandolin player playing muzak in the back. I sat down for a drink, ordered a pint and a piece of bread and butter.

I noticed something was different from the moment I had woken up; everything felt, fresh, new, oddly false. I can't explain it proper, I'm no elf.

There were less than ten people in the entire establishment; all of them muttering to themselves, swarthy, dirty folk. But there were four in the back who were different from all of the others. They sat at the oak table. A short fellow, Halfling surely, sitting on top of pillows to reach the table, he wore a dagger at his hip. A human, dressed entirely in plate armor; his ridiculously large sword resting against the wall. There was a fellow with greenish skin and fur garments, a spiked helm and a great axe he hugged like a toddler and his stuffed toy. A woman also; wearing practically nothing but fur undergarments. Not exactly standard fare for-

"December." I muttered aloud to myself. The four of them sat at that table like kings, it was strange to look at them; they seemed more real then anyone else in the tavern, as if they had been painted in brighter colors.

The armored man walked up to me. He pointed to the object I held in my hand.

"I see you've skill with a blade."

"That's a butter knife." I said.

"Want to join our party?" The armored man said. He pointed back to the table, where the other three were waving with idiot grins.

It was as if a choice was being presented to me; a choice that the universe seemed to hinge upon. I felt as if it was my purpose, my duty to join their party…

I rebelled against the universe. "No."

He recoiled as if I'd slapped him. "Well, why not?"

"Because…I'm a farmer, I have no reason to join a bunch of adventurers."

"Don't you want to right wrongs and stuff?"

"What wrongs?" I asked. Somewhere I felt the perverse pleasure of defiance.

A man suddenly ran into the tavern; "Help! Help! Orcs are attacking our village!"

"Wrongs like that!" The armored man said. "Come on! Let's help them!"

"No thanks…" I muttered. I began to leave.

As I opened the door to exit, a man sitting by the table grabbed my wrist; "You should fight those Orcs," he said. I left without talking to him.

There was something wrong as soon as I stepped onto the street, I could feel it in the substance of everything around me. I tried to buy fruit from a street vendor; "You should fight those Orcs." He said. I decided not to buy fruit, began to suspect a trend.

"Excuse me sir-"I asked a passer by.

"You know," he said, "You should really go fight those Orcs."

Panic and desperation began to grow in me. "I'm not going to fight any Orcs!"

I whirled around and ran straight into one of the adventurers from the tavern. "You have to join our party! Orcs are attacking!"

"No! No!" I cried. I ran screaming down the street, every person, every object was my enemy, the product of some cruel and alien mind.

An acquaintance of mine encountered me on the street, he called my name.

"You've got to help me," I tried to explain.

"You've got bigger problems, Orcs are destroying your farm!" He said to me, "You should go fight them! And find some adventurers to help you!"

I ran faster, all the streets began to look the same, I'm sure I passed the tavern at least three times, and at all the windows, that party of adventurers waved with those hideous grins pasted on their faces.

I ran to the cliff, stood perched over its rim. "I'm not going to fight those Orcs!" I shouted to the heavens.

"Why do you people give me such a hard time?" The heavens said back. I didn't stop to think about how strange it was; that would've been ironic.

I leapt off the cliff, saw the rocks and branches hurling past me. The bottom of the cliff sped toward me, as if I was stationary and was about to be struck by a charging tarresque.

I landed in a pool of water that wasn't there before; a pair of sollerets stood before me, connected to greaves and-

"You should really help us fight those Orcs." The armored man said. Behind him, his smiling party waved.


End file.
